“I want to make you cry my name as many times as I shouted yours,” I admit in a low voice.
His eyes pop open and find mine. Melted chocolate. Eighty-five percent cacao. “Yeah?”
I nod, biting my bottom lip as I fist him tighter and slightly increase the pace with which I work him over.
His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. “Then, you better get to work.”
Teasing. Playful. So different than the man he is to the world. And that knowledge—that I’m getting a version of him that no one else does—fills me with more happiness than I thought possible.
So, I get to work. I give him my best smirk before lowering my mouth and wrapping my lips around his hard cock. He twitches twice in my mouth as I take him deeper, moving lower, until he hits the back of my throat.
“Gesú, Carla,” he mutters, anguished. His hand finds my head, his fingers twisting through the strands, as he helps me set the pace he wants.
I hollow out my cheeks and flatten my tongue against him, moving at his preferred speed. Then, I mix it up, giving his head extra attention with the flick of my tongue, the graze of my teeth, a kiss. I watch as Luca’s eyes nearly roll back in his head.
It’s an addictive sensation, bringing a man like Luca DiBlanco to fruition. I lose track of time as I commit to making this the best oral experience he’s ever had. And when he swears my name and grips my hair, letting me know he’s close, I don’t release him.
Instead, I move faster, my other hand gripping his testicles, until he comes down my throat. Salty, sticky, messy. Delicious.
I release him with a pop, dragging the back of my hand over my mouth as he gapes at me.
“You didn’t have to—” he sputters.
“Wanted to,” I answer simply, rolling my lips together. “You’re better than churros con chocolate.”
He stares at me for a long moment before he tips his head back and laughs in disbelief. And I’m reminded of a moment long ago when I made him laugh like this—carefree, genuine, caught up in a moment. Just us.
“Get over here.” He reaches for my hand and tugs me over his frame.
I go willingly, lying on top of his naked body as he plays with my hair. Within minutes, I feel him stiffen to life. Again. And I hide my smile that he’s ready for round two.
I kiss his pec and lift my face to his. “Everything’s different with you, DiBlanco.”
“Yeah?” He twirls a strand of my hair around his index finger. Tugs it.
“Yeah.”
He gives me that half smile and shifts to sit up more, taking me with him. “Good.”
Then, he kisses me hard, plunging his tongue deep into my mouth so our unique tastes, wants, and needs blend together, before rolling me onto my back.
I reach into my bedside table for a condom, but Luca shakes his head. “I’ve got one.” He leaves my bed momentarily to dig into his shorts, retrieve his wallet, and pluck out a condom.
“Don’t trust me?” I tilt my head to the side.
“Oh, I trust you,” he admits. “But I don’t want to use the condoms you bought for some other chump.”
“I didn’t buy them for a man. I bought them for me.”
He snickers. “Well played, Carla.” He tears the condom open and I watch, rapt with attention, as he rolls it on. “But I like my brand.”
He positions himself at my entrance and looks at me. Our eyes hold and it’s a connection I never knew existed.
It’s more than trusting him with my body. It’s giving him my feelings and thoughts. A part of my soul.
And in his gaze, I see the same. The knowing, the understanding, the completeness. This is different; this is real.
Luca leans forward and brushes his mouth against mine. The kiss is slow and sensual and sexy. As he kisses me, he slowly pushes inside, inch by inch, giving me time to adjust to his impressive length.
